


Chasing Family

by Tahlruil



Series: After the End [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dialogue Light, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Mild Language, Mildly Steve Rogers Critical, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Slash, Team Iron Man, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8844283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: Tony Stark has felt alone for most of his life, and he never really expected much else. He had Pepper and Rhodey, and they were all the family he'd ever need. They were the only family he ever thought he'd get. Then the Avengers came into his life... and he let himself get used to it. He let himself believe they'd always be there. When it all falls apart, he finds himself unsure if he ever wants to take that kind of chance again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So.
> 
> This is another fic that was supposed to be short and sweet and spiraled out of my control. Sigh.
> 
> I saw a prompt list from [allfandomsimagining](http://allfandomsimagining.tumblr.com/post/153695018031/prompt-requests) and decided to do one, and it was supposed to be short and cute, and then. Then this thing happened. XD It's for #81: "Everyone keeps telling me you're the bad guy". So yeah. XD Unbeta'd, as always. XD
> 
> It is kinda Steve-critical, and there's almost no dialogue, and yeah. XD
> 
> Comment and tell me how I did? <333

Before the Avengers, Tony would have said he preferred being alone when he worked in the ‘shop. After the Avengers fell the fuck apart, he’d vehemently maintained the same, insisted that it had never changed.

But there had been a small window of time where that wasn’t true. He’d had just over two years to realize he didn’t mind having other warm bodies moving around in his space. He’d liked watching the team attempt to befriend his bots, enjoyed the brief and infrequent look of awe in their eyes when they found something he was working on that actually interested them. Tony had _loved_ being deep in day two of an engineering trance and still feeling the presence of one or more of his team members lingering in his workshop. He’d liked believing they were there to check on him and his wellbeing because they actually cared. He’d liked thinking they were looking out for him.

Knowing now that in that last year (at the very least, maybe even before then) that they were mostly there to keep him from building anything too dangerous or ‘yet another murder-bot’ kind of destroyed the warm fuzzies the memories used to give him. Such was life.

Then the Avengers left him, most of them fucking off to Wakanda after sticking their toes into the villainy pool, because why not? The rest (meaning Rhodey and Vision, thanks for leaving the Avengers, Rogers) returned to living at the compound during the week to handle things there. From what he gathered during their weekend stays at Stark Tower, ‘handling things’ mostly involved getting drunk (Rhodey), waxing poetic about life and chaos (Vision), destroying many of the personal effects the other Avengers had left behind (drunken Rhodey), burning down the kitchen (angry Vision), and researching possible new recruits (hungover Rhodey and sheepishly embarrassed Vision).

They mostly left Tony to his own devices during the week, though he was expected to help them pick new Avengers on the weekend, so he had to get used to the ‘shop being empty. What choice did he have, after all? None, because the Avengers were gone, Stark men were made of iron, and he’d been alone with his thoughts and inventions for most of his life, so he could fucking handle this.

And he did.

He built things for Rhodey (legs first, then a pretty astonishing number of upgrades for the War Machine armor), built things for SI, and built things for the baby Avengers that Vision and Rhodey insisted on introducing to him. Parker made the cut, at least part-time, keeping his identity secret. He and another youngster – Kamala, who was always entirely too excited to see him – were kept on reserve and mostly engaged in training with the older baby Avengers. Even though he didn’t go into the field, he continued to be the smiling leader of the Avengers press releases. He gutted and remade the Accords with the help of T’Challa and the UN, and began working with a team of lawyers (including two impressive men from Hell’s Kitchen who he suspected had a rather _personal_ interest) to try and prevent the incredibly shady Super Human Registration Act that Ross was pushing from being implemented stateside. While he was at it, he finally got enough dirt and curried enough favor elsewhere to bury good old Thaddeus – the new Secretary of Defense was far more willing to work on legislation that wasn’t so aggressive against supers but still soothed the fears of average citizens. He pushed to pardon the old Avengers and bring them home, because the coming storm didn’t give a shit about the current state of Earth’s superhero teams, and they’d need _everyone_ when the storm finally broke. He built things – secret, dangerous things he told only Rhodey about – and hid them away against the looming threat from space.

Twice a week, he ventured to the compound to bond with the baby Avengers.

The Iron Man armor remained in a dark corner of his workshop, untouched and unrepaired.

Entry to the ‘shop was prohibited to anyone but Rhodey, Vision, and Pepper.

And Tony learned how to be alone again.

~.~.~

Then the Avengers came back, and _Thor_ he wished he hadn’t given up drinking. Having them back in his space was grating and awful – especially Captain Perfect and his bestie Bucky. Well, Barnes wasn’t so bad on his own, really, now that Tony’d had time to… process the information he’d gotten in Siberia. But Steve was almost unbearable those first few weeks, strutting around as if nothing of any great consequence had happened, like the team hadn’t broken. Like they hadn’t broken Tony.

He clearly felt that he’d _won_ something, and that Tony’s work to help Barnes reclaim himself while they were fucked off to Wakanda was an admission of his guilt. He seemed to think Tony had been entirely in the wrong and had been the reason everything had fallen apart. While helping Barnes had been seen as the start of an apology, he seemed to think Tony owed him even more, and had developed a tendency of looming over him with an almost-patient expression on his face. Most of the rest of Team Cap was no better.

They ate Tony’s food and lived in his house and used his money to buy clothes and other things, all the while bitching about not being allowed back at the compound with the ‘New Avengers’ that they needed to train. They all watched him (Barnes excluded) with that same expectant air Steve had, like they were waiting for something – an apology maybe, which _no_ – but he didn’t give them anything of the sort. He wasn’t going to give anything that might make them think he was ready to let them get close to him.

Lesson fucking learned the last time.

The Avengers – the old ones – weren’t his family. They were barely his team, as a matter of fact. The ‘good old days’ hadn’t really been that good for him, he’d realized. Time and distance had let him see that, had given him insight into the toxic patterns they’d all let fall into place between them. Patterns where he was the scapegoat, the embarrassing necessity, the disaster waiting to happen – he could never do anything right, not really, unless he was doing exactly what the other Avengers wanted him to do. They cared about him as long as he toed their lines, as long as he gave them what they felt he owed them. They were as dysfunctional a family as the one he’d been born into, and he was done choosing and chasing that. That wasn’t family, not anymore.

Family was Rhodey and Pepper, who had believed he could be someone great long before he ever had. They’d been there for him even when they were pissed, even when it hurt, even when they fought. They were his brother and sister, their bond forged from tears and laughter and love.

Family was Vision, who’d flown on his own to Siberia the moment FRIDAY had informed him she’d lost touch with the suit. Vision wasn’t JARVIS, which had been hard and confusing for both of them at the start, but they’d worked through it. The day the android had shyly asked if he might use ‘Tony’ instead of ‘Mr. Stark’ and then admitted to feeling a familial bond between them had been just a bit wonderful, if Tony were being honest. His heart was full to bursting with pride and love whenever he watched his strange, awkward, amazing progeny try to find his way in this world, discovering himself as he went.

Family might even be the baby Avengers, led by Peter and Kamala, spending weeks hand-crafting his Christmas presents. They couldn’t afford anything store bought that would be nice enough for him, Peter’d explained quietly through the mask he still refused to take off unless alone with Tony. They were all poor compared to him (even Hope, really) but they still wanted him to know how much they cared, how much they appreciated him. So Tony received a handful of useless, unique, precious trinkets that they’d made with their time and their own two hands – no matter how Rhodey told the story, he had _not_ cried. He wasn’t ready to trust them all, not yet, but as he’d blinked back tears (that he had NOT ever actually shed) and pulled Peter into a rough hug, Tony had felt himself warming to the idea.

Then the old Avengers came back, bringing with them Steve’s idea of how ‘family’ should treat Tony. He couldn’t do it again – he couldn’t let himself get used to people being there for him only to lose them when they chose Captain America. So the specially made badges granting access he’d spent a few hours designing and fabricating for Pete and Kamala were locked away in a drawer, and the workshop stayed largely empty but for Tony and the bots.

The beginnings of a new Iron Man armor were shoved into the same corner as the one Steve and Barnes had destroyed.

~.~.~

For almost two months, Tony managed to keep the whole of Team Cap out of his workshop. The look on Steve’s face the first time he was denied entry had been priceless. FRIDAY even took a still from the video recording and made it the background image of Tony’s phone, because it made him chuckle every time he saw it. That initial refusal didn’t stop Steve, Sam, Clint (who’d been divorced by a very pissed Laura after fucking off to Wakanda), Natasha (who’d joined in the fucking off once Tony got Ross off her tail), or even Wanda (once, and only because she was upset that Vision refused to talk to her) from trying again. They were turned away over and over, until the mere _mention_ of Tony’s workshop brought a mistrusting scowl to Steve’s face.

(“What are you building _now_ Tony?” “You know how you get when you don’t have someone to reign you in – we’re all just worried.” “If it’s so safe, then why are you _hiding_ it Tony?” “We wouldn’t be so pushy if we didn’t care.”)

Eventually they stopped, but Tony figured that was mostly because they were finally cleared to move back to the Avengers compound. Tony wished he’d been there when Steve found out that he was no longer team leader. According to Pete and Kamala (who’d both live-texted him through the whole thing) the tantrum he’d thrown at Rhodey and Carol Danvers, now co-leaders of the team, had been epic. Pepper had _not_ appreciated the way their recounting had Tony giggling through an entire board meeting, but once it was over she read through them and began laughing as well. He suspected her of sending both teens a rather extravagant ‘thank you’ basket for their recap, but he knew better than to tease her for it.

So Rogers and company were (mostly) living at the compound, and Tony only had to see them twice a week. He might never have had to let a single one of them in his workshop.

Except.

Except Barnes had declared himself uncomfortable with the idea of being an Avenger, then expressed reluctance to move to the compound when he wasn’t a full member of the team. When he didn’t falter in the face of Cap’s biggest, saddest puppy-dog eyes, Tony offered him a home in Stark Tower (“Shouldn’t it be _Avengers_ Tower again Tony?”) for as long as he wanted it. Fuck, he’d give the guy a medal for holding up under that look if he could. And Barnes really wasn’t that bad. Kept quiet, mostly to himself, and he didn’t act like Tony owed him a damn thing. 

So after Rogers’ reluctant departure, Tony found himself on the common floor when he wasn’t in the ‘shop more often than not. He couldn’t leave Barnes completely alone, after all. They ate dinner together during the week when Tony wasn’t at the compound and watched movies or trash TV together afterwards. Tony recommended book titles, then gifted Barnes with both an e-reader and a gift card loaded with enough money to buy a whole library (in case he preferred ‘real’ books like _some_ people) so the ex-assassin could go crazy reading. Some nights found them curled up on opposite ends of the same couch, Barnes working his way through his latest novel while Tony worked from his tablet or did a bit of reading of his own.

That would have all been _fine_ , except. Except he watched how Barnes went without the prosthetic arm he’d gotten in Wakanda over half the time – unless Steve was around, in which case it stayed firmly attached for the entire visit. He noticed the small, flinching grimace Barnes made every time he put the arm on or took it off. He saw the way Barnes rubbed at that shoulder with a stoic face that screamed ‘I’m used to it hurting’. He heard Barnes admit late one night, in a trembling whisper, that even though the Wakandan scientists had done their best, the new arm felt alien and unnatural, and it hurt almost as much as the last one.

 _Fuck **that**_ , Tony remembers thinking, and after that it was all over.

He brought Barnes down to his workshop and let him inside, ignoring the scrutinizing look in those steel-blue eyes. The way that expression had transformed into one of absolute wonder when he got his first good look at the ‘shop soothed something in Tony’s heart and let him smile as he broke the rule he’d made for himself. He’d meant for the trip to be all business – get in, talk specs, take measurements, and get Barnes the fuck out. It didn’t end up happening that way at all.

How could it, when the bots were as fascinated with Barnes as he was with them? After a long ‘conversation’ where Barnes did a rather impressive job interpreting the beeps and whistles the bots were making, they had a new best friend. Dum-E even made him a non-lethal smoothie afterwards. Tony couldn’t remember the last time the bot had distributed anything edible to anyone but him. U insisted Barnes look over her latest project, poking him several times until he ‘ooohed’ loud and long enough. Butterfingers, meanwhile, was content to just bury both metal ‘hands’ in Barnes’ long hair and trail after the man like a puppy.

Tony’d never seen the former (brainwashed, to be fair) Hydra agent _smile_ so much or so wide. He’d never seen his eyes so warm, never seen them sparkle that way before. So he didn’t have a choice, not really.

He detoured away from business, giving Barnes the grand tour – Butterfingers following after them the whole time. He babbled about what he was working on, expecting the other man to get bored fairly quickly. Instead, Tony had his full attention, and was delighted by the intelligent, insightful questions he asked. They made Tony grin and miss Bruce like crazy.

By the time both their stomachs had started to rumble (sending Dum-E into a momentary tizzy when he wasn’t sure if he should reach for a fire-extinguisher or make them smoothies), they’d accomplished exactly nothing and had a good time doing it. That night, while they ate, Barnes called him ‘Tony’ for the first time.

Tony tried to pretend it didn’t make him happy.

After that, Barnes became something of a fixture in the ‘shop. He wasn’t there all day every day or even close to it, so Tony didn’t feel like he was there as a babysitter, left by Steve to keep an eye on him. He was there just often enough that it felt normal. Routine. Like he’d always been meant to be there. On days when Steve visited, he never came down or mentioned his ‘shop access to Steve – for which Tony was extremely thankful. Some days, the man plopped himself on the workshop couch and read, the bots fawning and fussing over him. Other days, days when he didn’t mind wearing the Wakandan arm until Tony finished a new one that met both their standards, he helped Tony and the bots with their work, showing a surprising aptitude and interest.

On days when his eyes were more ice than steel and his flesh fingers shook slightly, Tony took him to the specially designed lab a floor above, and they’d spend the afternoon blowing shit up.

And they talked – something that was dangerous and delightful in equal measure. Because the more they talked, the more Tony let himself believe that this was something real. The more he got to know Barnes, the less he thought about all the reasons this was a terrible idea. And the further he let Barnes in, the harder it was to remember that he wouldn’t get to keep this.

Eventually, Captain America would call, and his Bucky would come running.

Tony would be alone again.

He tried to keep Barnes at arm’s length, he really did – because he couldn’t depend on this and then lose it. He refused to call the man anything but his last name, tried not to touch him at all despite his naturally tactile nature, and told himself that he didn’t even really _like_ Barnes anyway. They were just alone together, so it was natural to feel like they were connecting. They just… they just put up with each other. Sometimes he almost believed it.

But then they would talk.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” Barnes told Tony one day, completely out of the blue. Tony was yanked out of his headspace, work interrupted, gaze drawn to the other man. He was sprawled on the couch, a good portion of U’s bulky frame draped over his stomach, and his flesh fingers were idly running over the metal struts. Warmth and affection flooded his veins at the picture they made, and he had to force his eyes away before he said something stupid and needy.

Something like ‘please stay with us forever’.

“Well I’m not a good one,” he answered instead, turning his attention back to the newest version of the Widow Bites he was tinkering with. Tony was proud of how light he kept his voice, at the way he didn’t let his bitterness seep into the words. “Just ask Cap – I never was hero material.”

“Bullshit. You’re an Avenger, aren’t you?”

“Technically no. Never lost the consultant title. I’m not an Avenger or a hero.”

“But you’re Iron Man.”

“Iron Man doesn’t go out on the field much these days, and Tony Stark’s nothing like him. It’s always been ‘Iron Man: yes, Tony Stark: not recommended’.” All the old resentment was bubbling up under his skin, and looking at the Widow Bites was making him feel sick to his stomach. They were for Natasha, who hadn’t bothered to look beyond his masks before judging him, whose judgement had then poisoned his relationships with most of the other Avengers before they’d even met him. Nat, who’d never much liked or trusted Tony Stark, and who’d betrayed even Iron Man in the end. As he looked at the weapons he’d spent the last week working on, just for her, he felt his chest tightening and his throat closing – he was going to have a panic attack if he couldn’t find a way to pull out of this dark thought spiral.

He shoved the Widow Bites away almost desperately, needing them out of his sight. He flinched when they fell from the table to hit the floor, but he didn’t pick them up. Instead he moved to a different workbench where he had a new prototype of Spider-Man’s costume laid out. Peter liked Tony Stark a lot, more than he liked Iron Man even. Pete looked at _him_ like he was a hero with or without the armor… so did Kamala. The thought eased the nausea in his stomach, let his throat unclench so he could breathe again. Those kids were something special, something amazing, and they liked him.

Maybe it was time to get those special badges out of the drawer and into their hands.

“Since it sounds like Team Cap was happy to tell you all about my shortcomings, I’m surprised you’d still think I’m a hero, or an Avenger at all. I _am_ the bad guy in the bunch – reckless on and off the field, with too many bad ideas and too many secrets. I’m sure Cap waxed poetic about my failures as a team player to you. You’re his bestie, after all. He doesn’t even like me, and he had no problem telling me all about it.”

“… all I’m really gettin’ outta this is that Stevie turned inta an ass while I was… away.” Barnes’ voice was blunt, with a Brooklyn edge born of irritation; it was also way too close, coming from just above Tony’s right shoulder. He hadn’t even heard the other man get off the couch, and part of him thought he should find that unnerving. He had an ex-assassin at his back, breathing on his neck, one who’d killed his parents and had only recently shaken off decades of pretty extensive brainwashing. Tony was sure he should be scared, at least a little. Even with only one arm, Barnes could snap his neck with ease, and there was nothing stopping him from doing just that.

But Tony wasn’t scared.

No, when Barnes settled his flesh hand on Tony’s elbow and squeezed down softly, he wasn’t scared at all. He was just _tired_ , and felt almost safe enough to show it. He almost turned around to collapse against Barnes’ chest, because he was pretty sure the man would let him hide there for just a little while. The only things keeping him from doing just that were the memory of the way he called Cap ‘Stevie’ with ease, and the undeniable truth that Bucky Barnes _belonged_ at Captain America’s side.

“He’s an ass, but he’s not wrong,” Tony told Barnes quietly, letting his eyes drift to the only corner that wasn’t lit up. “I’m not a hero. If I was… everything would have been different. I’m the bad guy, Barnes. They were right – don’t let my flashy front fool you.”

“They weren’t right,” Barnes disagreed, the hand on Tony’s elbow squeezing a bit tighter. “Not that I can see. I think Tony Stark is a good man whose been hurt an awful lot.”

“Uh, no. Tony Stark is maybe half a step up from villain territory, and his sob-story of a background doesn’t matter. Bucky Barnes is no slouch though.” Tony knew his voice was rough with emotion, but he couldn’t get it to even out, couldn’t stop the faint tremble that was causing his hands to shake. “You don’t have to try and-”

“Call me James?”

“I… uh… what?”

“’M not Bucky anymore. Not really. Stevie don’t wanna… he doesn’t understand. I think maybe you might. So call me James?”

“… yeah. I can do that. Uh, James.”

“Thanks Tony.” Bu… James was standing even closer now, close enough that his chest was pressed against Tony’s back. Without another word, he tucked his face against Tony’s neck, breathing soft and sure against his skin. There was no more insisting that Tony was a good man, at least not verbally. But somehow, as James stood there in his space, he felt the same warm, giddy feeling that he got when he looked in Pete’s eyes. He almost felt like a hero – he almost felt like he deserved to keep this.

The next day, he had FRIDAY bring up the schematics for a new Iron Man suit, staring at the design for almost an hour before he took a deep breath and began to work. 


	2. Secrets and Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'm just kind of super blown away by the response to this! You've all been so kind. <3 Thanks so much!
> 
> So I'm working on a whole separate sequel, but I wanted to practice writing from Bucky's view a bit. I don't think this is long enough to really be a whole separate story, and it fits in the same timeline as the first chapter instead of moving forward... so I thought I'd tack it on here. 
> 
> There is more coming, but most of it will be posted as separate fics, so maybe subscribe to the series if you want to be notified when there's new stuff. 
> 
> Again, thanks so very much for all the kudos and comments! It means the world. <3
> 
> If you wanted to leave more of the latter on this chapter, I would not be mad. :D

According to one Steven Rogers, he and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes had no secrets between them. They were brothers, and had lived in each other’s pockets since they were kids. ‘To the end of the line’ meant they shared everything, knew each other inside and out. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were meant to be inseparable, even (especially) when the blond Avenger was in Captain America mode. To little Stevie from Brooklyn, the lines between the two of them were so blurred that they might as well not exist.

For ‘Bucky’, it was a lot more complicated.

He didn’t want to hurt the man, not when they’d both already lost so much. He didn’t want to sever that last tie to a past Steve missed with a fierce, unrelenting ache. He didn’t want to be the one that pushed Steve over that final cliff, not when the stupid punk had just about started a war to get him back. So to keep the peace, he kept secrets.

> While he didn’t miss the pain or the terrible things Hydra’d made him do, Bucky **did** miss how _simple_ things had been as the Asset. 
> 
> He remembered everything _about_ being Bucky, had all the pertinent information, but when he tried to _be_ Bucky, it felt like living a lie.
> 
> He wished Steve had just signed the fucking Accords after the fiasco in Germany.
> 
> He was furious at Steve for hiding the real cause of the death of Stark’s parents for so long.
> 
> And the biggest, darkest secret of all… he was pretty sure that half the time he didn’t even _like_ the man who was supposed to be his ‘best friend’.

After getting his head on straight (helped enormously by the man they’d left bruised and bloody in an icy bunker), he spent nearly all his time in Steve’s company. Not by choice, not exactly – the blond just looked so _sad_ if Bucky didn’t ask him along, or if he even hinted at needing some time alone. The expression tore at the bits of him that remembered so well, the parts of him that still loved Stevie even if he’d turned into a bit of an ass. And… well. It was so easy to just accept it. Steve seemed so sure of who Bucky Barnes was supposed to be, after all, and what they were supposed to be to each other. Steve never had any trouble making decisions so Bucky didn’t have to. Steve expected him to follow, because ‘Bucky Barnes’ always had.

So he stopped trying to figure it all out.

He let Steve make all the calls, because it eased the small, shameful yearning for the Asset’s simple existence.

He let Steve fill his whole life.

He let Steve sad-eye the Wakandan scientists into making him a new arm, even if he’d neglected to ask if Bucky even _wanted_ one.

He followed Steve back to the US, even though he hated forcing his presence on Stark while Steve’s team waited on the last few ‘i’s to be dotted that would let them rejoin the Avengers.

He let Steve keep deciding for him, because Steve knew what ‘Bucky’ would have wanted.

He let it happen so he wouldn’t have to admit to anyone but his therapist that he didn’t much feel like Bucky Barnes anymore.

~.~.~

Tony Stark was everything his therapist was trying to convince him he deserved.

He’d been beautiful even in Siberia, betrayed and broken and furious. In his tower? In his tower, in his own space, he was fucking _radiant_ , and Bucky honestly didn’t know how to handle that. So he reverted to what Steve and Natasha called ‘Soldier mode’ (because they were both under similar delusions about who and what was left in his head) and went watchful and silent. He could have tried harder – he could have pulled out the mannerisms of good ol’ Bucky Barnes, gone for flirty and fun and talkative. But it was such a lie, and if there was one thing Stark deserved from him, it was the goddamn truth.

So he stayed in ‘Soldier mode’, managing a few quiet sentences here and there. He wanted more, wanted to be able to actually _talk_ to the genius, but he was going to do it as himself, whoever that was. He wouldn’t wear a dead man’s smile just to get one in return, even if Stark probably would prefer him to be a ghost.

In being quiet, in watching and listening instead, he learned.

He learned that Steve and his team heaped scorn on the genius at almost every turn, only to demand favors from him a moment later. He learned that if something was going wrong, the others in the tower would quickly begin to wonder what Stark had done to cause it. He discovered that they’d all deemed the man beneath them, and even their ‘jokes’ about the matter held a great deal of casual cruelty. He realized that, despite that fact, they _couldn’t stop fucking talking about him_.

Steve especially brought the billionaire up near constantly. Sure it was to badmouth him most of the time, but still. It was like he just couldn’t get Stark out of his mind. In between bringing up old memories to help him remember (“We’ll get you back to normal, Buck, don’t worry”), he spoke Tony’s name with amusing regularity. If Steve hadn’t kissed that blond dame, he might’ve thought his friend was infatuated with Stark. Hell, he still could be… but if that was the case, he was going about showing it all wrong. He thought of pointing all that out, but that would invite complication and conflict into their simple existence.

Besides, even if Steve got his head out of his ass, Stark deserved better.

Even if the genius _could_ be a sarcastic little shit, and he could see why Steve always got so flustered and frustrated by him. The blond was awful at recognizing playful snark in others (despite being fluent at speaking sass) and he seemed to see Stark as more of a bully than a man using humor to deflect and defend. Didn’t matter that 90% of Stark’s meanest jokes and jabs were aimed at himself – Steve and his team focused on that other 10% like a pack of dogs with a single bone to share between them.

It wasn’t fair, to his way of thinking. He was pretty sure that ‘Bucky’ would have pointed it out and then would have tried to make it stop. Whoever he was now, he just couldn’t bring himself to do the same. It would be seen as a challenge to Steve’s leadership, would put friction between them that he just wasn’t ready to deal with.

Making his own decisions was too hard still, too daunting. He wasn’t ready for Steve to stop making them for him.

So he watched and he kept his secrets, adding another to the hoard.

> Tony Stark was beautiful and fascinating, and he liked the man a whole helluva lot; if he weren’t so broken, didn’t still secretly wish for the simplicity and ease of being the Asset, he’d try his hand at rationing the man.

He spoke with the genius when he could manage to form words that didn’t get stuck in his throat, flashed tiny almost-smiles his way on days when he didn’t want to crawl in his bed and never leave. No one seemed to notice (or maybe decided it wasn’t their place to comment on it), but in the month and a half that they all lived together in Stark Tower, its owner got more of his words and attention than anyone but Steve. 

More and more, he began to dread moving out, began to hate the thought of becoming an Avenger. In the field, he would _have_ to make decisions sometimes. He would have to make them fast and without hesitation, or people would get hurt. Steve would be leading, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once. The Avengers had an amount of autonomy that sent a shiver of terror down the Asset’s spine – what was left of it, anyway. 

After all, most days, he couldn’t even decide what he wanted for breakfast.

The nightmares that had plagued him since Steve started to unravel his programming intensified until he was lucky to get two hours of sleep a night. It was a strain that he mostly managed to hide, because he knew what they all expected of him. He just had to be ‘Bucky’, or at least get as close to that as he could stomach, and then they all mostly left him alone. Well, not _alone_ , because Stevie could hardly let him out of his sight long enough for either of them to take a dump in peace, but they wouldn’t push. Playing a wounded Bucky Barnes earned him a bit of space to try and make some choices regarding his future.

He wondered if regular people understood what a great and terrible burden decisions really were.

In the end, it was his growing understanding of Stark that helped him reach an acceptable conclusion. He knew that if he refused to go to the compound, the man wouldn’t throw him out on his ass. The genius was far too kind for that.

Staying at Stark Tower meant neither of them were alone, not entirely.

Steve would visit (too) often, so he wouldn’t be completely cast adrift.

Stark tended to suggest things to him instead of making him decide everything, and when he offered choices the options were always surprisingly (purposefully? thoughtfully?) limited. This bowl of cereal or that cooked toaster pastry? Takeout from this restaurant or that? Without the thousands of ‘helpful’ additions and qualifiers everyone else threw at him, it was _almost_ easy to pick things. It was good practice, even if it didn’t ease that sharp yearning inside of him the way letting Stevie choose did.

Stark called him Barnes, and didn’t seem to expect him to be Bucky.

Steve would be forced to give him a little space; Stark would offer that space freely, but be around if he asked.

He could get to know Stark without Steve and his team nattering in his ear.

Stark didn’t feel entitled to all his secrets.

Stark would let him figure out who he was, and wouldn’t be disappointed if that didn’t turn out to be Bucky.

So he made a decision, and found that doing so wasn't quite as awful as he'd feared it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next installment is written from Steve's POV; anyone have any suggestions on who they'd like to hear from next? 
> 
> Tell me here or drop a line in my [Tumblr](http://tahlreth.tumblr.com/) askbox! I would also accept short prompts for this series as well. Or prompts relating to Stony, WinterIron or any Dragon Age pairings, tbh - trying to work on writing shorter things inspired by prompts and I need soooo much practice guys. XD


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